


We'll Weather the Storm

by hazelNuts



Series: Prompt Fics [46]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Camping, Cora and Derek are Twins, Fluff, M/M, POV Switches, Pining Derek, Pining Stiles Stilinski, Punk Derek, background Isaac/Scott, background Lydia/Jackson, thunderstorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-21
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-25 03:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3795742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelNuts/pseuds/hazelNuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anonymous asked,"Punks can get scared of thunder storms too"</p><p>When Derek and Stiles get paired up for a school trip, Derek thinks it's going to be disaster. Because Stiles is mouthy and smart and gorgeous, and that's exactly Derek's type.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll Weather the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really bad at tagging. If you think I forgot any, please let me know in the comments.
> 
> Originally posted on [letswritesterek](http://letswritesterek.tumblr.com/).

‘Alright, listen up!’ Finstock yells. ‘These are your roommates. You can’t switch. It’s no point arguing with me. These will also be your tentmates for when we arrive at our camping spot.’

Finstock starts going down the list. So far, Derek isn’t surprised by any of the combos. They’d been asked who they’d liked to room with, so most of his classmates partnered up. He doesn’t really care who he ends up with. He did mention that he shouldn’t be paired with Jackson, since it’s likely he’ll punch him in the face before they even go to bed.

‘Cora Hale, you’re with Reyes. Derek Hale with Stilinski. Lah-‘

‘What?’ Stiles’ voice yells from the back. ‘But Coach, Scott and I wanted to be roomies.’

Derek turns to see and indignant looking Stiles pushing forward, a sad-faced Scott trailing behind him.

‘Do I look stupid, Stilinski? Don’t answer that,’ Finstock says, when Stiles opens his mouth. ‘Last time you and McCall were in a motel room together, you nearly burned the place down. You are not rooming. In fact, I’m putting you at opposite ends of the building.’

‘But-‘

‘No switching, no arguing. Lahey with McCall. Mahealani-‘

Derek watches in silent horror as Stiles walks up to him. This class trip is going to be a disaster. He doesn’t like group activities, but he’d figured that as long as he wasn’t paired up with Jackson he’d be okay. He should have included Stiles on the list of people he didn’t want to room with. He’d wanted to, but the only reasons he could come up with were “I’m going to pop a boner the moment he takes his shirt off” or the even better “he’s going to hear me moan his name in my sleep, because I’ll definitely be dreaming about hitting that fine ass”.

‘Cheer up, Sour-brows. We’re gonna be bunk-buddies,’ Stiles says, not sounding all that cheerful himself.

‘They don’t have bunk beds at this motel.’

‘Well, this is going to be fun,’ Stiles mutters under his breath.

~

He drops his bag on his bed with a sigh. God, why did he have to be paired up with Derek? The guy was always so moody. He barely talks. Actually, Stiles has found that he talks a lot, but most of it’s with his eyebrows. He’s just such a Derek-Downer. Heh, he needs to remember that. Admittedly, the guy isn’t all bad. He has this dry sense of humour that Stiles finds hilarious. And he’s also kind of nice, Stiles has seen the way puppies act around him. The leather jacket isn’t so bad either. Or the piercings. Or the tattoos. And all those colours look pretty good in his hair. Not to mention the strong thighs he’s glimpsed through those ripped jeans.

‘You need some alone time?’ Derek asks, pierced eyebrow raised.

‘What?’ Oh god, did he just pop a boner while thinking about the guy he’s going to be sleeping with for the next three days? No! Don’t think that. They’re not sleeping together, just in the same room. He does a quick boner-check, and with a considerable amount of relief, he realizes there is no cause for alarm.

‘You were zoning out.’

‘That happens when your best friend is at the other side of the building.’

‘Well, look at it this way. Maybe he and Isaac will finally get their heads out of their asses.’

‘Not likely,’ Stiles snorts. Scott and Isaac have this very special way of not getting each other’s hints.

‘You wanna bet?’ Derek asks, lips stretched in a grin and multi-coloured eyes gleaming. Stiles wants to grab his face, pull him close so he can catalogue all those colours.

‘Alright. If they end up together _after_ the trip, you have to wear this shirt for a day. At school,’ Stiles says. He pulls out a blue and orange striped shirt out of his bag. The look of horror on Derek’s face is enough for him to know he’s done the right thing.

‘Okay,’ Derek agrees. ‘But if I win you dye your hair.’

‘But that stays longer!’

‘You can always dye it brown again, after. Or shave it off.’

Stiles looks at the shirt he’s still holding, then at Derek’s smug face.

‘Deal.’

~

‘How was your night?’ Derek asks Isaac the next morning

The guy looks a little shocked as Derek takes the seat next to him on the bus. Derek can’t blame him. He doesn’t think they’ve actually spoken more than ten words in all the years they’ve in school together.

‘You’re with McCall, right?’ he continues, when Isaac doesn’t answer.

‘Yeah. It, uhm- It was fine.’ Isaac’s cheeks are turning a little red.

‘You like him.’

‘Wha-‘ Isaac’s face goes from shocked and surprised to absolutely terrified.

‘I was just thinking, this trip is the perfect time to make a move.’

‘You think so?’

‘I know I would.’

Which is a complete lie. At first he’d thought he was just attracted to Stiles, with those big eyes and lithe body. But after last night, Derek has realized it’s a full-blown crush.

Stiles had been grinning all night, sure of his win and getting Derek to wear that offensive shirt. He’d kept grinning, even when he lost all his jellybeans in the card games they’d played. Even when he was brushing his teeth and had toothpaste dripping off his chin. Derek wanted to punch a wall because of how adorable it was.

This morning, when they woke up, had been even worse. Stiles was still smiling, but it was softer, more private. And with the added effect of his messy hair and half-open eyes, Derek had wanted to do nothing more than pull Stiles in bed with him for cuddles.

Instead, he’d taken a very angry shower and then stomped out of the room to get breakfast, because Derek Hale doesn’t do cuddles. Especially not with loud-mouthed, snarky, smart, gorgeous, whiskey-eyed people named Stiles.

He is so fucked.

~

They’re the first to get their tent up. Well, Derek gets their tent up. Stiles is just standing next to him trying to make sense of the instructions. And watching Derek’s hands at work with the ropes. He really knows how to tie a knot.

‘How the hell did you do that? That was like, two minutes,’ he quickly interrupts his own train of thoughts.

‘We go camping a lot,’ Derek answers, with a nod towards his twin.

Stiles looks over at where Cora is hammering the last of the herrings of her and Erica’s tent into the ground. He had not expected that. He’d expected Hale-vacations to be hotels and room service. Not getting close to nature and having to bury your own poop.

‘Huh.’

‘Get your stuff inside so we can get lunch.’

Stiles quickly rolls out his sleeping bag and pulls out his pillow.

‘You brought a pillow from the motel?’

‘No. I brought a pillow from home. I can’t sleep without it.’

He thinks he sees a smile on Derek’s lips when he turns towards the table with all the food.

‘So what did you and Isaac talk about?’ he asks once they’re seated.

‘Oh not much,’ Derek answers, airily. ‘Just what a great opportunity it is to be roomed with your crush for three days.’

‘Are you trying to influence the bet?’

‘No. I just want two of my classmates to be happy. Don’t you want Scott to be happy?’ Derek answers innocently. The asshole even flutters his eyelashes.

‘That is low, Hale. Very low.’

He should’ve known Derek would play dirty. And damn him if he doesn’t like it.

~

They’re all exhausted by the end of the night. Some had opted a campfire, but when it had started to rain a little everyone had retreated to their tents.

‘What time is it?’ Stiles asks.

‘Around ten.’

‘So too early to go to bed. You wanna play another card game?’

‘I already have all of your candy, Stiles. What could we possibly play for?’

‘We could play strip-poker.’

He isn’t sure, but he thinks Stiles wiggles his eyebrows when he says that. He’s grateful his flashlight isn’t that bright or else Stiles definitely would’ve noticed the way his cheeks were turning bright red.

‘What would be the point if we can’t see anything?’ he counters.

‘Good point,’ Stiles sighs. The disappointment he hears, must be Derek’s imagination. ‘You have any ideas, big guy?’

‘We could just go to sleep.’

‘Oh my god, I thought you were this tough guy. You know, a rebel. You’re actually an eighty year-old.’

‘Shut up,’ Derek mumbles. He pulls Stiles’ pillow from under his head and hits him in the face with it.

The following indignant squawk is probably the most inhuman sound he’s ever heard. He’s about to say so when Stiles shushes him.

‘Is it me or is it starting to rain harder?’

Derek tilts his head, listening. ‘Yeah, I think so.’

He zips open their tent and puts one of his hands outside. It’s definitely coming down harder than it was before. If it keeps up like this they’re going to have to move to the bus. These tents aren’t made for this kind of weather.

‘Pack your stuff. We might have to make a run for the bus soon.’

He’s barely finished his sentenced when the volume of the rain’s patter on the tent doubles. He can hear Finstock shouting for everyone to get their asses to the bus. He’s not going to have any of them miss the Economics test on Monday.

They quickly stuff their things back into their bags, grab their sleeping bags and sprint to the bus. Stiles almost slips in the mud. Derek reaches out to catch him, dropping his sleeping bag in the process.

‘Shit. Come on.’ He picks up the sleeping bag out of the mud and pulls Stiles with him.

They’re the last ones. The only seats left are those at the front. He sits down and pulls Stiles next to him.

‘Gross. Keep that away from me,’ Stiles says, throwing Derek’s mud-splattered sleeping bag into the aisle.

‘Guess we’ll have to share yours.’

He quickly unzips the clean sleeping bag and spreads it over them like a blanket.

‘Great,’ Stiles sighs. ‘I’m not gonna get any sleep tonight _and_ I’m gonna have to dye my hair tomorrow.’

‘What?’ He’s not really paying attention to what Stiles is saying. Even when unzipped, the sleeping bag isn’t very big and they have to sit close to have it cover the both of them. Stiles’ warm body leaning against his is a little distracting.

‘You di-‘

There’s a bright flash and he feels Stiles stiffen. The entire bus goes quiet. He can almost hear people counting in their heads. He hears a couple people inhale sharply when the thunder finally rolls. What he doesn’t expect is Stiles to curl into his side, eyes closed and hands fisted into his leather jacket.

~

Oh fuck. Shit. He’s going to die. He’s going to die _twice_. Once from the storm and the second time because Derek Hale is going to throttle him with his stupidly beautiful hands. Maybe, if he doesn’t move, nothing will happen. Time will stop and they’ll stay like this forever. Which isn’t so bad, considering that Derek smells nice, like leather and wood, and has a very sturdy chest.

He feels the guy under him shift. He stiffens a little more, expecting to be thrown off any second now. But Derek doesn’t throw him off. Derek wraps his arms around him and hugs him a little closer.

‘You’re fine,’ he whispers into Stiles’ hair.

‘You’re not gonna make fun of me?’ He’s still too scared to loosen his hold on Derek’s jacket.

‘Of course, not.’

‘It’s a legitimate phobia, you know. Fear of thunderstorms.’

‘I know.’ He thinks it sounds fond.

‘It’s called astraphobia.’

‘Good to know.’

He finally dares to open his eyes and looks up at Derek. He wasn’t imagining the fondness in Derek’s voice, because it’s written all over the guy’s face. He’s about to pull back a little more when there’s another flash. He ducks back into Derek’s chest. If the guy isn’t going to laugh at him, Stiles is totally going to use him as protection.

When his muscles have loosened themselves a little, Derek taps his shoulder.

‘Sit up for a minute. Can you grab your pillow?’

Stiles nods and quickly pulls his pillow out of his bag, not wanting to be too far away from Derek in case there’s another flash. He hands the pillow over and Derek props it against the window. He then leans against it and pulls Stiles into his side. It’s far more comfortable than their previous position.

‘This okay?’ Derek mumbles.

‘Yeah. Thanks.’

Another flash and another rumble.

‘What colours are you dyeing your hair?’

‘What?’ he squeaks. How can Derek talk about hair dye at a time like this?

‘I’m distracting you. What colours are you dyeing your hair?’ Derek repeats. ‘What about white and red?’

‘White isn’t a colour,’ Stiles admonishes him. ‘Which you know. And I never figured you for having school spirit. What about red, blue and yellow. We’d match.’

‘You’d like that?’

Stiles shifts a little so he can look at Derek’s face. His eyes are wide and the corners of his mouth hitch up into a small, hopeful smile. The eyebrow piercing and the snake bite in his lip gleam in the low light. This guy is the most beautiful thing Stiles has ever seen.

He reaches out his hand and pulls Derek’s mouth to his. At first, when Derek doesn’t react, he thinks he’s made a terrible mistake. But then the guy tilts his head to get a better angle and- Holy tongue piercing that feels good. He faintly registers another flash of lightning, but he doesn’t care. And that roll of thunder can go screw itself. Stiles Stilinski is too busy finding out how awesome kissing Derek Hale is.

~

‘That’s it!’ Finstock yells, cutting through the haziness that kissing Stiles has brought on. ‘Hale, Stilinski! Make out on your own time. The same goes for you, McCall and Lahey! I don’t know what you’re laughing at Whittemore. Hands out of the sleeping bag or you and Martin are getting detention. If I catch anyone locking lips again without it being a medical emergency, I’m throwing them into the rain to cool down.’

There are some awkward laughs, but a minute later, the bus is mostly quiet again.

Stiles is back to hiding his face in his chest. And Derek hides in own face in Stiles’ hair. He likes it there. It smells like lemons and whatever hair gel Stiles normally uses.

‘Hey, Derek? Punks can get scared of thunderstorms too, right?’

‘Not this one.’

‘So, you’re fearless?’

‘Spiders,’ Derek mutters.

‘Really? But they’re so tiny.’

Stiles stiffens again at the next lightening flash, but relaxes when Derek presses a kiss to the top of his head.

‘Yes, really. How about we make a deal? I distract you during thunderstorms and you kill the spiders for me.’

‘Deal.’

He finds one of Stiles’ hands and tangles their fingers together. He revels in the way that Stiles’ body is pressing against most of his. He might as well admit it. He likes to cuddle, especially with loud-mouthed, snarky, smart, gorgeous, whiskey-eyed people named Stiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://fandom-madnessess.tumblr.com/).


End file.
